To Promise to Never is to Promise Forever
by WaterLily25
Summary: Peter waited too long to come back and now Wendy and the others have forgotten him. She has grown up. And with a new use of pixiedust, he changes too. A romantic short story of Peter and Wendy and how he helps her to remember him. Please R&R! Better than the summary, I promise. I'll strive to do the timeless couple justice. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

It was a bitterly cold winter. Snow fell like rain and landed softly on gentlemen's hats and the fur of ladies' coats. The window panes were frozen and fires crackled in every home in London. The sun hardly shown, the only light to be had was from the street lamps.

The Darling house was warm, nestled between two narrow houses, all covered in snow. It was still night, just after three. The house creaked and breathed heavily with the deep slumber of its occupants. The boys, each three and four to a room, snored without a care of the schooling that waited for them in the morning.

Wendy slept peacefully; the embers in the small fireplace next to the tall window glowed dimly as the snow fell steadily outside, landing on the windowsill. But her dream was far from peaceful. There were bright blinding colors, blurry shapes like different flowers and strange people, _creatures_. But what stood out was a pair of eyes. They were neither familiar nor strange: they were haunting and they placed a sadness in her heart that would be there when she woke.

…

Wendy was now seventeen, the age when girls sought to be sent away from their families to explore life and to learn independence. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, all traces of childhood banished from her features. Her hair was long and dark like chestnut. Her neck was slender and her cheeks were not as full but still glowed like a spring rose. Her hazel eyes were glassy, shining like a flickering candle like she had a secret. Her brow was always slightly raised as if amused and her lips slightly smiling as if she was laughing to herself.

She was beautiful and many sought her hand but none captured her. She attended parties and balls with her father, mother and Aunt Millicent. Sometimes John accompanied them and sometimes it would only be Aunt Millicent and Wendy. It seemed the goal of the family was to find Wendy a suitor.

This did not surprise Wendy nor did it please her. Most nights she spent hours near the fireplace, reading books by English, Russian and American authors. And once she was inspired, when a wonderful gripping thought entered her head, she went to her writing desk and began to write. But nothing satisfied her, not like the beautiful stories she read in books.

But the boys loved Wendy's stories. Sometimes she put them under their doors at night and they would ask her for more the next morning. Slightly, Tootles, the Twins, Curly and Nibs often asked her to write about them fighting pirates. And when Wendy asked why, they said they did not know why, but that it only made sense.

Aunt Millicent often scolded Wendy for reading by the fire because it made her eyes weak and tired. But once Aunt Millicent turned her back, Mrs. Darling would kiss Wendy's nose and smile at her as if to say, "Do what makes your heart happy." For they both knew a woman's time spent by herself was precious.

Wendy completed her schooling and longed to go to a University to learn to write properly, to become an author. But Aunt Millicent strongly opposed her going to a place that was for men. And in turn, Mr. Darling agreed. A suitor was what Wendy needed.

And as the years passed slowly, Wendy found it more and more difficult and tedious to grow up.

…

"Darling, where is my tie?"

"In the drawer, where it always is," Mrs. Darling replied gently. She opened the door to Wendy's room, seeing her daughter at her vanity, staring into the mirror. She smiled tenderly.

"Need help, dear?" She sat next to Wendy on the cushioned bench and began to brush her long hair, which curled on the ends.

The nursery had become Wendy's room. As Aunt Millicent said, it is only proper for a young lady, such as Wendy, to have her very own room. Her bed was full sized, soft with feather stuffed pillows, and her wooden wardrobe and dresser was now filled with elegant dresses, hats, stockings and shoes. The toys had been put away in the attic. Her writing desk was between the fireplace and the window where she often sat to stare out at the sky.

She stared out it now as he mother combed her hair.

"You look beautiful, Wendy," Mrs. Darling said soothingly. "That color looks stunning on you."

Wendy smiled slightly and looked at her mother in the mirror. Mrs. Darling was the most beautiful woman in Bloomsbury. She had ebony hair, pinned elegantly in a crown of loose curls, and soft creamy skin. Her dark eyes were kind and her hidden kiss Wendy could still see in the corner of her mouth. Her mother was gentle and tender in a way that only a mother can be.

She was wearing a ruby dress that pooled on the floor around her feet and a fur shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. Tonight the Darling Family (Mr. and Mrs. Darling, Aunt Millicent, John and Wendy) were to attend a grand party for Mr. Darling's employer from the bank. Wendy felt as if she was in a daze; the process for preparing for a party felt like a dream she had already had ten times before.

Wendy sighed softly.

"I know dear," Mrs. Darling murmured.

Wendy met her mother's eyes and there she saw her dearest companion, the only one who understood her.

"I feel so tired, mother," Wendy said sadly.

Mrs. Darling reached for her daughter and enveloped her in her arms.

"Oh my dearest, Wendy," Mrs. Darling lamented. "I know; I felt the same at your age…"

"I feel so odd next to the other girls," Wendy stood and went to the window. She leaned against the frame and stared out to the sky, the glow of night shinning on her face.

"They actually _enjoy_ going to parties and dancing…I try to but…"

"You can't change who you are," Mrs. Darling said with an understanding smile.

Wendy looked back at her mother, her eyes pleading, "I want so much to do…to…"

The light in Wendy's eye faded and she looked back to the window.

"I'm not sure what I want anymore."

Mrs. Darling watched her daughter, desperate to help her but not knowing how. She could only soothe her with the words her mother and told her when she was Wendy's age. Looking at Wendy now, dressed in azure blue with her hair curling gently down her back, she was reminded of herself.

Mrs. Darling went to Wendy's side, turning her towards her and looking into her glassy eyes. She could hear her sons laughing down the hall.

"My mother once told me to never sacrifice my true self… but to do what needed to be done. There are many changes and the world is not as it was when I was your age but you must not lose sight of who you are…like I did."

Wendy read her mother's eyes and Mrs. Darling nodded.

"Yes, I was a dreamer like you, wanting to see the world. But I lost my dreams and I knew I had to look after myself by finding a suitor. Your grandmother would have never forgiven me had I grown up a spinster."

They both laughed and Mrs. Darling tucked a strand of Wendy's hair behind her ear.

"But then, I found the most wonderful adventure I could have ever hoped for: a family of my own."

Wendy smiled softly at her mother, her eyes sparkling gently.

Mrs. Darling placed her hand under her daughter's chin, "through your father, I found myself again. And I loved him dearly for it. I know it's difficult to be paraded around like a doll. But perhaps there is someone who shares the same dream as you. So don't look for a suitor: look for a friend."

Wendy smiled at her mother's words. She always knew the right things to say.

Mrs. Darling pulled Wendy into a tight hug then brought her back to the bench where she began to pin her hair up with silver combs.

"Tonight, don't focus on what others want for you," Mrs. Darling said as she pinned the last comb into her daughter's hair.

"Just smile and enjoy yourself." Mrs. Darling smiled at her through the mirror.

Wendy smiled back.

"Mary! The coach is here!"

Mrs. Darling and Wendy went out into the hall where the boys were playing with toy soldiers. John was standing over Michael's shoulder, instructing him where to place his cannons. John had grown into a handsome smart man; he still wore glasses and his dark hair was neatly combed back. He had the same dark eyes as father and he smiled what seemed like all the time.

"You both look splendid," John said brightly.

"As always," said Nibs, his red hair glowing in the light of the hall lamps.

The other nodded in agreement.

Mrs. Darling curtsied to them and stepped carefully over their battlefield. "Now don't stay up too late; Nana will be cross with you if you're not in bed by nine o'clock, children."

Nana, fluffy and sitting next to Tootles with a watchful eye barked loudly as if to reinforce Mrs. Darling's warning.

"Yes, mother," the boys replied.

Wendy smiled at them and as she stepped over their battlefield, she bent down and moved the soldier that was the captain.

"He's supposed to be placed at the front, Curly."

Curly, with his, of course, curly hair, beamed up at his sister, "Thanks, Wendy."

The boys were now about the age of twelve, like Michael, and they were the most spirited boys: they were kind and mannerly, due to Aunt Millicent's teaching, but they loved to be outside and could play for hours. Wendy enjoyed taking them to the park.

They had always been a part of the family. Wendy couldn't remember a time without them.

Mr. Darling smiled up at his wife and she and Wendy descended the stairs. He was dressed sharply in a black and white suit and Aunt Millicent was traveling in and out of the front door, searching for her handbag.

"I just had it! It's not in the coach…where on earth could it possibly-"

"Here it is, mother," replied Slightly with a proud smile. "It was on the drawing room chair."

Aunt Millicent beamed at the boy, "Thank you my dear." She kissed and patted him on the chair and followed Mr. Darling out to the carriage, closing the door and locking it behind her.

The street was quiet except for distant horses pulling coaches, and the snow banks along the swept roads were glowing in the light of the street lamp. It was a beautiful night; for the first time all winter, Wendy could see the stars. One in particular was shining brightly. She hugged her fur wrap tightly around her and took her father's hand as she climbed into the coach behind her mother.

As Aunt Millicent went on about the guests that would be attending the party, Wendy stared out the carriage window, watching the star that was shining brighter than all the others until she could no longer see it.

….

Voices and small talk filled Wendy's ear as she entered the foyer of the great mansion. Men in black and white suits, like her father's, and women in splendid gowns with pearls and diamonds around their necks flitted about the foyer and into the ballroom where classical music flowed. There were tall windows in the foyer that over looked the iron fence that separated the street from the small narrow lawn and the carriages road up in a line, more guests flowing out of them.

Crystal chandeliers sparkled in the candle light and the exquisite décor was unlike anything Wendy had ever seen in a home. She preferred the coziness of her own home in Bloomsbury.

She followed her parents as they greeted colleges and friends. Aunt Millicent pinched John to stand up straight.

Champagne flutes were handed to each guest and Wendy declined her and nudged John when he tried to take one with an oblivious grin on his lips.

As soon as Wendy stepped into the ballroom, three young men approached her and held out their hands, asking her to dance with them. She glanced at her mother and father, who nodded and smiled encouragingly, and she smiled sweetly as she took one of the hands, not seeing who it belonged to.

She was whisked away from her brother into a beautiful waltz and she smiled sheepishly up at her dance partner who had a crooked smile and smelled strongly of what was probably his father's perfume.

After the second dance, Wendy wanted to part from the boy but he pleaded with her to dance once more waltz. She nodded kindly and took his hand again, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room to escape all the stares from boys and girls alike though the stares from the girls were not as welcoming as the boys'.

Wendy was twirled around when she saw a pair of green eyes in the crowd of silk and suits. She gasped.

"Something wrong, miss?"

Wendy was turned back around, her feet stumbling slightly, and she looked up at her dance partner bewildered.

"No," she said, composing herself effortlessly. "I'm fine."

But she turned her face and saw the face again; he was smiling at her as if he had a secret.

But something in her mind flashed, like a memory or a forgotten dream. His eyes were striking and his hair was a messy disarray of blonde curls. He was handsome but he disturbed her for reasons she could not explain, like a ghost.

Was she sure of what she saw? As her partner turned again, she craned her head, seeing the young man again, standing behind the crowd and staring at her. He reminded her of someone…but she'd never seen him before.

Before her mind caught up with her body, another young man had stepped in and she was pulled into another dance. Her eyes stayed locked on the young man until she couldn't see him anymore. He looked young but his eyes looked as if he was her age or a few years older.

Time seemed to slow and though she was still dancing, she felt like she was standing still, looking around the room and seeing no one familiar. Her beautiful dress flowed around her and for a moment she felt like her mother. But when she saw the young man's face again, she felt like someone else, how she used to be when she was younger.

She felt so strange; she didn't understand the thoughts that went through her head while she was being twirled around the marble floor.

Her face now looked despaired as she continuously searched the crowd for the strange boy, much to her partner's irritation. She looked over to her parents and gasped again: the strange boy was bowing his head over her mother's hand. John was staring at him too as if trying to remember something.

Wendy stopped dancing and curtsied to her partner apologetically. She went quickly to her mother's side, her hair pins coming loose as she half ran across the room, her eyes locked on the boy.

Mrs. Darling was laughing and smiling beautifully at the boy. "It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Where did you say you were from?"

The boy smiled gently, his green eyes glistening as he looked at Mrs. Darling, "That's difficult to say."

Mrs. Darling smiled and laughed; she seemed to be entranced by him. He smiled cunningly, as if he knew what he was doing.

He was as tall as Wendy and looked to be her age. He seemed out of place in his fitted suit. Wendy saw that his hands and nails were dirty. But her parents took no notice.

"This is my daughter, Wendy," Mrs. Darling said.

The boy's eyes lit up when Mrs. Darling said Wendy's name and he looked at her. He was handsome and had a youthful look about him; Wendy could see it in his expression.

She politely extended her hand and he took it. His hand was rough. He gently lowered his head and kissed her skin.

He glanced up at her, his green eyes shining extraordinarily, "It is my pleasure to meet you, Miss Wendy."

Wendy said nothing, only stared at him. Her expression was frustrated but it was only because the wheels in her mind were spinning wildly; this boy reminded her of something, something she had once….

"I'm Peter," he said, straightening. He looked nervous and his hands twitched as if he didn't know where to put them. He looked at Wendy's parents, "Son of George and Mary Pan."

"Goodness," Mr. Darling said with a laugh as he looked at his wife, "the same names as us, darling."

"Yes," agreed Mrs. Darling, still smiling at Peter, "what a coincidence."

Wendy's eyes narrowed curiously, "Peter…Pan?"

Peter looked offended by her tone, as if she was suggesting he was lying.

"Yes. That's my name."

He also seemed disappointed as he read her eyes. She looked away.

"Would you care to join us for tea tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Pan?" asked Mr. Darling. "Your mother and father are welcome too, of course."

Wendy stared at her father and he raised his eyebrows, not knowing what he had done wrong. He straightened his glasses and looked back to the boy.

Peter smiled at Mr. Darling, surprised, "Yes, I'd be delighted. But I believe my parents…have other plans."

With the way he responded, it sounded like a boy trying to play pretend.

"Will you still join us?" asked Mrs. Darling.

Peter nodded.

"Wonderful," she said. She looked to Wendy who looked at her with bewilderment.

"Wendy, darling, we need to return home to your brothers."

Peter's eyes sparked again, "They're still here?"

Everyone looked at him questioningly.

Peter stammered, "I mean…you have brothers? I do too…"

Wendy's eyes were still narrowed. Her manners told her to be more cordial but the situation itself was too overwhelming and too familiar…she could not hide the emotions on her face very well.

"Yes, this here is my oldest son, John," Mr. Darling said as he patted John on the shoulder. John was still staring at Peter curiously.

"How do you do?" John said properly, extending his hand.

Peter shook it enthusiastically. John looked at him strangely.

Wendy's head was spinning, "We should be going, mother."

Mr. Darling shook Peter's hand again. "Wonderful meeting you, Mr. Pan. We shall see you tomorrow night at the theatre."

Peter nodded, "Delighted to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Darling, John...Wendy."

Wendy turned to follow her parents but her eyes did not leave the boy's face. He smiled at her cunningly but there was sadness in his eyes.

John touched his sister's elbow, "I say, Wendy, who is that fellow? He seems awfully familiar. And yet…I've never seen him before…"

Wendy felt a sadness grow within her, the same sadness she had felt that morning, and every morning before that after waking from her dreams.

"Neither have I," she said sadly, tearing her eyes away from the green ones that followed her to the door.

….

Wendy brushed her hair in a daze, still thinking about the strange occurrence. Her mother and father talked about him on the way home, commenting on his handsome features and charm. Wendy didn't understand; they had only spoken with him for perhaps ten minutes. But then again, they had done the same with many young men that posed as possible suitors for Wendy.

Wendy looked out the window, watching the snow. What a strange night; it was snowing yet there were no clouds, only the stars.

She had seen the boy before. Even saying his name felt familiar on her lips. But that was impossible; she had never seen him before.

But Wendy didn't care. She placed her brush down and went to her bed, removing her long velvet robe. She climbed into bed, her brown curls fanning across the pillow, and as she fell asleep, she saw his greens eyes by the fireplace.

….

Peter waited until Wendy was asleep to open the window. It was rusted and old and had not been opened in some time. The room had changed and only Wendy slept in it. The toys were gone and there were many books.

Peter stepped gingerly onto the carpet. He still wore the suit he had worn at the party but he had removed the shoes; he hated walking in them and it felt strange to fly in them. The rug under his toes felt the same.

Tinker Bell flew past his ear and into the room, fluttering next to the crackling fire place to warm herself.

The wind came in behind him too, blowing the curtains and the loose snow on the window around him. He felt sad as he walked across the floor, seeing a different room but thinking of the same old memories. He remembered listening to Wendy's stories from the window, whispering in her ear as she slept.

Looking at her now, she looked different but her mouth was the same. Her hair was longer and she was of course taller…Her eyes were different too: at the party, they didn't have the same shine as they once had when she was in Neverland…

And she didn't remember him.

Peter touched his chest involuntarily; there was an aching hollow feeling in his chest as he looked at her. His green eyes glistened and he heard Tink's bells, asking him what was wrong.

"She doesn't remember me, Tink," he stood over Wendy, his hand hovering above her cheek.

She looked like one of the princesses from her stories; she looked so _old_.

"How could you, Wendy?" he whispered sadly. "How could you grow up…" His throat tightened as he remembered her angry expression from the party. "…and forget me?"

Wendy's eyebrows furrowed in her sleep and Peter sighed.

He turned his head and saw the mirror above her vanity. His reflection was a stranger too; he was taller, his body was that of a young man's…

"We have to work fast, Tink," he said quietly as he stared at the boy in the mirror. "I don't like this."

Tink flew to his shoulder and he looked down at her tiny face. She was looking up at him sadly.

"She has to remember me, Tink."

He looked down at Wendy one last time, his expression determined, "I'm not leaving until she does; I'll make her remember. Then she'll have to come back… and stay."

Peter turned to leave the room. But he stopped next to the desk and thought for a moment. He pulled a chain from his pocket and looked at the acorn that hung from it. The memories attached to the chain hurt him now. Tears welled in his eyes as he placed it on the desk.

"I didn't mean to stay away for so long," he said, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. He looked back at her, sleeping peacefully in her bed. Though she was old, he still saw the Wendy he knew, tucked deep within her.

"Please remember," he whispered before disappearing through the window.

…

Wendy had the same dream she had had for as long as she could remember. There were colorful flowers, large birds, women with long fish tails instead of legs, the sea…everything was much more vivid on this night. And this time, the boy, Peter, was there. And he fit perfectly well in the strange world that was her dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Wendy woke the next morning with snow on her bed. A chill hung above her and the fire still glowed brightly. A light dust of snow covered the floor.

Wendy opened her eyes slowly and pulled the sheets tightly around her, feeling the cold breeze on her cheeks. Then she remembered that there was not supposed to be a breeze…

She sat up and looked about her room, disbelieving what her eyes saw. The window was wide open and the curtains were floating on the winter breeze that blew in from outside. It looked as if snow was falling from the ceiling.

She crawled out of bed and walked toward the window, her long silk gown trailing behind her, floating over the snow. The carpet was not wet; the snow was like fine powder and was cold to the touch, naturally. Wendy went to the window and looked down to the small courtyard that was the Darling's backyard. Michael, Nibs, Slightly, Tootles, and Curly were playing in the snow, shouting and laughing.

Wendy looked out at the London buildings, smoke rising from chimneys into the light pink sky. The sun was beginning to rise.

Who opened the window?

She turned back to her room that was now a pleasant winter wonderland. Though she knew she should be irritated and cold, she was curious and fascinated. The snow was beautiful; her room looked like it belonged in a painting or story.

Inspired by this strange event, Wendy went to her desk and lit the oil lamp. She picked up a pen, dipped it in her ink pot and, after brushing the snow off the blank pages in front of her, she began to write.

But then she stopped as her eyes glanced and fell on a strange object. A gold chain with an acorn on it…

She picked it up and examined it closely. The acorn had a hole through it and Wendy stared at it with wide eyes, for the strangest thought popped into her head: _It was from the arrow_.

She placed the acorn on the desk slowly and then looked back to the window, a new breeze blowing her long wavy hair across her neck.

"Am I still dreaming…" she said to herself. This was not possible…

There was a knock at her door.

"Wendy? Darling, it's time to get up."

Wendy was pulled from her trance and quickly went to shut the door.

"Coming, mother!" she said as she swept the snow close to the fire place with her gown and robe. She pulled on her robe and went to the door.

And if Wendy had looked closer, she would've seen the footprints that she had swept away with the snow.

….

Aunt Millicent was frazzled. She flew around the house with Mrs. Darling in her wake as they cleaned, prepared tea and scones, and occasionally went to help Wendy dress. Aunt Millicent had observed Mr. Pan at the party the previous night and she was more than pleased.

"We know he comes from good genes in regards to features but now, today we shall observe his charm, social abilities, and hopefully he will disclose his family's social class and inheritance."

She beamed at Wendy, who was sitting in the parlor with her father, both staring at Aunt Millicent with wide nervous eyes.

"And with any luck, this may be the one," Aunt Millicent said as her eyes glinted excitedly.

Wendy glanced to her father. With past suitors, Wendy had a reputation of answering difficult and demanding questions, ones that would scare the suitor and cause her family to sigh with disappointment. Wendy had perfected the art of deflecting suitors with her sharp use of vocabulary and wit.

Aunt Millicent's eyebrows rose as if reading her niece's thoughts. "Not this time, young lady. Your family's reputation as well as yours depends on it and unless you want to live on the _streets!_ I suggest you keep that in mind."

Wendy took a deep breath, feeling the pressure from her family members' eyes.

"Aunt Millicent, try not to be so hard on her," Mrs. Darling said gently. "Our family will be perfectly fine with whatever Wendy decides."

Mrs. Darling looked pointedly to Mr. Darling and he fixed his glasses nervously, "Yes, yes, quite right."

Wendy smiled at her mother.

The boys and John went to the park with Nana that morning and Aunt Millicent continued to fuss over the state of the house and the burnt scones. Mrs. Darling brushed Wendy's hair again. Instead of pinning it up, Mrs. Darling suggested leaving it down in its soft curls. The dress Wendy wore was deep red and she wore a cream silk bow in the back of her hair.

She was not eager for the tea that afternoon but she was curious to see the boy, the young man, again.

There was a knock on the door at precisely three o'clock. Mr. Darling answered the door.

"Ah! Mr. Pan, I'm delighted to see you again. Welcome to our home."

"Thank you," said a warm voice that made Wendy's heart beat fast for, once again, reasons she could not explain.

The parlor windows were bright from the grayish glow outside and the curtains were drawn to show the lovely cut lawn out front. The oil lamps glowed warmly as did the fire under the mantle. Tea and fresh unburnt scones were set on the parlor table and Mrs. Darling sat on one loveseat while Wendy and Aunt Millicent sat on the other. One chair was between the loveseats, facing the fire.

Wendy saw her father's arm around the corner, showing the young man into the parlor. He entered the parlor, bowing to the women present. He looked exactly the same as he had at the party, _exactly_: he wore the same suit as the night before and his hands were still dirty.

Wendy found it intriguing that neither her parents nor her aunt noticed. They all smiled at him, caught in the net that was his charm. Wendy had to admit to herself that he _was_ handsome.

Wendy smiled at him coolly even though his bright eyes gave her a chill.

Peter smiled at her and took her outstretched hand, placing his lips lightly on her skin. She watched him as he smiled at her.

"Wendy," he purred.

She smiled but the intensity in her eyes made his smile grow.

"Mr. Pan."

The formal introductions were exchanged, Aunt Millicent laughed and blushed as Peter took her hand and they all settled in their seats, Peter in the lone chair. Wendy kept her eyes locked on him. She thought it a mistake that he wore the same suit and she watched for disapproval in her aunt's eyes but she smiled at him as if he were the chosen one.

"What brings you to London, Mr. Pan?" Mrs. Darling asked as she poured him a cup of rose tea.

Peter glanced at Wendy then smiled at Mrs. Darling as she handed him a cup. "To visit an old friend."

"Oh, how lovely," exclaimed Aunt Millicent.

They asked many questions and it seemed like he was just making up the answers. None of Wendy's parents' responses to Peter's answers made sense; he was not as experienced and learned as some of the other suitors that had visited and Aunt Millicent would have disapproved of him by now.

And then Wendy saw it: a tiny glowing orb of sparkling light was floating behind Peter's shoulder. Peter saw Wendy staring and she dropped her gaze.

"What school did you attend, Mr. Pan?" asked Mr. Darling.

"I haven't been to school," said Peter with a charming smile.

"Ah, splendid," said Wendy's father.

Wendy looked at her father with wide eyes. Not only was she appalled by his reaction to Peter's non-education, but she had seen the tiny orb float to her father's shoulder. It had a tiny form, like a creature from a fairytale…it threw tiny sparks at Mr. Darling's head and his expression changed to excitement as if Peter had said he had attended Cambridge.

Wendy looked to Peter and he smiled at her, wrinkling his nose.

Who was this boy?

"Where did you say you were from, dear boy?" asked Aunt Millicent.

"Neverland," Peter answered confidently.

Wendy's heart stopped, "Neverland?"

Peter smiled at her, his eyes filled with emotion, "yes, Wendy. Have you heard of it?"

Wendy thought for a moment, "only in stories. My stories…from when I was a girl. It's not real."

"But it is," he said gently. "Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning."

"I think you're making fun of me," said Wendy, her hazel eyes glinting.

"No, Miss. Wendy. I would never do that." He smiled at her as if something appeared funny to him.

She looked down, suddenly embarrassed.

"But," he said slowly, suddenly speaking only to her, his intense green eyes burning into hers. "My home is very real. I could take you there, if you'd like."

"How romantic," said Aunt Millicent.

Wendy shook her head, "this is absurd."

"Nonsense, child," said Aunt Millicent. "Why, I remember it like it was just yesterday when you and the boys returned from Neverland…remember, Mary?"

"Yes," Mrs. Darling said as a sad glint appeared in her eyes. She looked at Wendy as if remembering a dream, "I remember…you were gone for such a long time."

Wendy stared at her mother, shaking her head. It was like they were under a spell but they seemed completely convinced, like someone believing their dreams were memories.

"I must be going now," said Peter, the little glowing figure floating next to his ear. It seemed to be pulling at his hair…

Peter stood and bowed and the Darling family, except Wendy, stood and thanked him for coming. Peter went to the door quickly, winking at Wendy before disappearing around the corner.

"Wait!" Wendy shouted as she ran after him.

"Good heavens, child!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent.

Wendy opened the front door and ran down the front steps. Snow covered everything and it glowed softly in the dim daylight. Her breath covered her vision in a fog and she looked up and down the quiet charming street, looking for his messy blonde hair. She looked down and saw only two footprints and then disappeared as if he had stopped. She looked all around terrified that he was gone.

She waited a moment, snowflakes sticking to her long hair, and then she couldn't remember why she had run after him. It was a feeling as if he was an old friend she did not want to say goodbye to yet. She had felt such a strange sadness in her heart when he had left, it almost brought tears to her eyes it was so powerful.

But she breathed heavily for a moment and turned to go back in the house. She felt like she was in a daze, like on the verge of remembering something and then losing it again.

….

Three days passed and the family did not hear from Mr. Pan, to Aunt Millicent's disappointment.

"He was _perfect_," she said one night at dinner.

The entire family was gathered around the oval dining table with mother and father at the heads and a wonderful goose meal with potatoes and vegetables had been prepared by the cook and Mrs. Darling.

Wendy glanced at her aunt across from her. She felt the sadness she had felt when peter had left whenever Aunt Millicent mentioned him, which was ever since the tea with Peter.

"He was charming, handsome, from good genes and family…"

"How do you know?" Wendy questioned curiously.

"Because he said so, dear child!"

"He did seem…odd," said John, looking at Wendy. "Are you sure we've never met him before?"

"I saw him from the top of the stairs," said Tootles. "But I wasn't eavesdropping!" he defended against his mother's reproachful look. "But he did remind me of someone we once knew…but he was wearing the wrong clothes."

"Yeah," agreed Slightly.

"He never wears shoes," said Nibs.

"Never," said the twins.

"And he was too tall," said Curly.

The boys all nodded in agreement, confident.

"Why do you say that, my dears?" asked Aunt Millicent.

The boys became quiet and their confidence slipped away and their expressions became confused.

Tootles thought for a moment, "I…I don't remember."

Wendy had felt hopeful. She knew she wasn't the only one.

Three nights passed and Wendy dreamt of Peter in the strange beautiful place and she often woke, looking around her room and feeling as though there was someone there. She went to her writing desk when she couldn't sleep and wrote down her dream, seeing the acorn on the top shelf of her desk.

On the third night, the Darlings were to attend a Christmas party and they all secretly hoped for Peter to be there.

"Dress your best, dear," said Aunt Millicent. "You never know when _fate_ will come knocking!"

Wendy was excited: her heart beat quickly in her chest and she had a strange feeling that Peter would be there.

She wore her hair down again and she wore a gown of deep green, like the color of the tree leaves in spring. Mrs. Darling put a matching green bow in her hair, curls falling from it gently.

"You look wonderful, darling," her mother said, smiling at her in the mirror.

"Mother," Wendy said as she turned towards Mrs. Darling. "I have been having the strangest feelings these past few days. Everything seems so familiar and yet strange at the same time…I can't place any of it and I feel…lost."

Mrs. Darling smiled gently, "Yes, angel, I must admit I have had the same feelings, as well as your father and brothers…but I have noticed," she touched a loose curl of Wendy's hair and she smiled brightly. "You have been more spirited lately…like you used to be when you were younger."

"How?" Wendy asked curiously.

"Right there," Mrs. Darling said, looking into her daughter's eyes. "There is a spirit in your eyes, a gleam, that has not been there for some time."

Wendy thought about this and was about to say something about her dreams and Peter when they heard Mr. Darling from down stairs.

"The coach is here, my dear!"

Mrs. Darling kissed Wendy on the forehead, "remember: by yourself tonight and everything will be fine."

They went down stairs, dressed in rich colors and wrapped in fur, kissed the boys' cheeks, and followed Aunt Millicent into the snow. John and the boys waved from the door and Nana barked a farewell.

Wendy waved to them from the coach window.

"Wendy looks much happier," said Michael curiously. He looked up at John, "haven't you noticed? She smiles like she used to."

John watched the coach thoughtfully. "Yes I have noticed that too, Michael."

"Maybe it's that man," said Nibs. "Peter Pan?"

"Peter?" said Tootles with a smile, laughing incredulously. "Peter wouldn't leave Neverland."

Tootles' smile faded and his eyes became pensive. "Peter…" he said again, thinking. And then his expression became surprised as if remembering something very important. He looked at the others who were staring at him curiously.

"Peter!" Tootles yelled. "It's Peter! Don't you remember?!" He shook Curly by the shoulders, "It's Peter! From home! Our _real_ home! Don't you remember? Oh you've _got_ to remember! How could I have forgotten?"

Nibs looked at Slightly and they both said his name: "Peter…"

Then it slowly appeared on their faces: amazement and remembrance.

"Peter!"

John and Michael looked at each other as the boys all began laughing and jumping up and down.

"How did I forget?" Curly asked, smiling broadly as he remembered all their adventures with Peter in Neverland.

"It's been so long, so very long," Slightly said as he shook his head is disapproval. "He promised he would visit us and then he went and forgot _us_!"

"He never forgets," Tootles said with a happy grin.

John thought for a moment and tried muttering the name to himself: "Peter…Peter Pan…Peter…"

"You must at least remember flying," said Nibs.

"Quick! We've got to help them remember!" said Curly.

"Get into the house," said Slightly as he pushed John and Michael inside. "Oh, this is great lads, this is just splendid."

"We'll get you to remember," Tootles said reassuringly as he shut the door to the Darling house.

….

Wendy was swept into a dance when she entered the ballroom. This mansion was bigger than the last and garland and candles were hung everywhere, a great Christmas tree in the middle of the room where the guests danced. She looked everywhere, to the annoyance of her dance partner whose name she didn't remember, but she did not see him.

Aunt Millicent searched too, taking sips of champagne as she peered at each young man's face as she passed.

Minutes passed and the music continued to weave through the room as Wendy still searched the sea of faces, all seeming to be looking at her.

"You look very beautiful tonight, Miss," said Wendy's partner.

But Wendy did not hear him for her eyes rested on a face, the face she had been looking for.

He emerged from the crowd, smiling gently at her. He was still wearing a suit, which made him look very grown up, and seeing him walk towards her made her stop. Time itself seemed to stop.

Wendy's unknown partner seemed to fade away and Peter took his place, smiling at Wendy pleasantly.

He bowed to her. She curtsied. He took her hand and then he swept her into a graceful waltz, so graceful that her feet barely touched the floor. Everyone seemed to vanish and the music slowed into a beautiful song Wendy had never heard before; it was what she imagined twinkling stars would sound like.

She looked at his face and smiled at him.

"I thought you had left for good," she said, still smiling.

"Never," he said.

They danced gracefully across the floor and the lights seemed to dim as well. The candle flames came to life and left their posts, dancing above them. The ceiling looked like the night sky and the flames like stars.

Wendy shook her head, disbelieving her eyes, "this must be a dream…"

"Why?" Peter asked. His smile dropped like a child's would.

"Because," said Wendy struggled to find the right words. "This belongs in a dream…"

"Maybe it's both," Peter said charmingly. "Maybe it's the place between sleep and awake."

Wendy's smile dropped and she stared at him, trying to remember something…

"It's where I've been," Peter said. His smile faded and sadness appeared in his eyes. "Waiting for you."

Wendy stared at him sadly. He seemed so lovely…she wish she knew who he was; who he _really_ was.

Peter twirled Wendy and when she saw him again, he was no longer wearing the suit that did not suit him: he was wearing an odd outfit made of leaves…they clung to his body around the hips and thighs like trousers and some trailed up his chest like a sash. The rest of him was bare. She knew she should blush at his inappropriate attire but she did not for she knew it suited him better. He was bare foot and he was even more handsome this way.

She smiled at him beautifully and he smiled back, excitement in his eyes.

"I must go, Wendy," he said at last.

Wendy's smile fell, "why? Oh, please don't go."

"Not far," Peter grinned. "You haven't remembered me yet and I'm not leaving until you do."

Wendy stopped dancing and stared at him for a long moment.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Peter's smile fell, "you'll know soon. I promise."

He bowed to her again and vanished.

"There you are, darling," said Mr. Darling as he approached his daughter who was standing still near the great Christmas tree. "Who were you dancing with? Was it Mr. Pan?"

"No, father," Wendy said sadly. Her mind became foggy, the way it feels after waking from a deep sleep.

"That's too bad," Mr. Darling patted her shoulder. "Come along, your mother wants to return to her children."

….

"Wendy! It was the most marvelous thing!" Michael exclaimed, running down the stairs.

Wendy clutched her fur wrap, looking up the stairs where she could hear the boys' shouts and running feet. "What? Michael, what on earth…"

"Come up stairs!" He exclaimed, grabbing her wrist.

"Don't be too long out of bed, Michael," Mrs. Darling called. "I want you and your brothers in bed in twenty minutes."

"Yes, mother!" Michael called as he dragged Wendy up the stairs to his and John's room.

Wendy pulled him to a stop, "Michael, what is all this fuss about?"

"Wendy, we _remembered_," Michael said with bright eyes, the brightest shed ever seen them. "We remember everything now: the pirates, the Indians, Tigerlily, Hook!"

"Michael, from my stories? They're only make believe."

"No they're not they're real and we remember! Look!" He pushed open the door and revealed his room.

The boys were running all over the place. They had tribal paint markings on their faces and sheets tied to a coat rack that stood on the bed. The sheet was made to look like a ship's sail. Bookshelves had been pushed together and covered in sheets to make a fort and the boys weren't wearing shirts. They were running around; John held a hanger in his left hand, using the hook to try and grab the boys.

Wendy's eyes grew wide.

"Quick! To the mermaid lagoon!" shouted Curly.

"No we must get Hook at the Jolly Roger!" shouted Nibs.

"I say chaps, we're running low on fairy dust," said Slightly as he looked inside a sock.

"It's pixie dust," corrected Tootles.

"Ah, of course, my mistake," said Slightly and everyone laughed.

"Isn't it wonderful, Wendy?" John asked with a big smile. He was standing on the bed like a captain at the helm of his ship. "I feel like a young boy again!"

"What is all this?" Wendy asked as she stepped into the room.

"Isn't it wonderful, Wendy?" asked John. "We remembered all the adventures we had in Neverland. Don't you remember?"

"_What_?" Wendy asked. Her mind was spinning.

The boys stared at her.

"Don't…don't you remember, Wendy?" Tootles asked slowly.

The boys had been playing their adventures from memory all night and were very excited for Wendy to return from the party: they knew she would remember immediately but when she didn't, they became worried.

"Remember what, exactly? You're only playing make believe."

"No! It really happened," said Nibs desperately. "You must remember, Wendy: flying to Neverland with Peter Pan."

Wendy's breath caught, "Peter? The boy we met only a week ago?"

"No! The boy we've known…for years." Tootles said, his heart breaking.

Wendy shook her head and her head began to hurt as if too many memories were trying to get her attention but they were all too blurry.

"No, we met him a week ago and you're being ridiculous. I've never been to Neverland and I can't fly! This is only pretend!"

"We have been to Neverland and you and Peter-"

"John, stop it!" Wendy shouted.

"Wendy?" Mrs. Darling called from down stairs.

Tears suddenly welled up in Wendy's eyes and with one last look at the brokenhearted boys, she ran out of the room. They heard her door slam and lock.

The boys looked at each other sadly.

"She was supposed to remember," Michael said sadly.

John jumped off the bed and went to comfort his brother. "She will, lads." He motioned for the others to gather around him. "Give her time. Peter must know what he is doing."

They all nodded in agreement and went to wash their faces for bed before Nana came up the stairs to bark at them.

….


	3. Chapter 3

"This is it, Tink," Peter said as he looked through the window into Wendy's room.

Tink's bells sounded softly next to him.

"I know we have to go home soon," he said, irritated. "But not until I know she remembers me."

He took a deep breath and opened the window, letting the snowy breeze push him into the room.

….

Wendy stirred and slowly opened her eyes. She saw a shadow on the floor and looked to the window where a figure was standing.

Instinct told her to scream but when she saw the figure place a finger to his mouth, a tiny flying orb of light flew close to his face and from its light, Wendy saw that the face belonged to Peter. She knew she was dreaming but it felt so real… She even felt the chill from the air outside the open window.

"Wendy?" the young man asked. He came into the room, stepping into the firelight, and Wendy saw he was wearing not his suit but the leaves she saw him wearing at the party. Well, the leaves she _dreamt_ he was wearing.

Wendy said nothing, only watched him from her bed. She was only wearing her long nightgown; she should've covered herself within the sheets but it was only a dream…_And he's seen me in my nightgown before._

She didn't know where that thought came from.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He smiled as he knelt beside her bed, looking up at her like she was as wonderful as the sun. "I came to see you."

She couldn't help but smile at him. "What funny clothes you wear."

His smile fell, "my clothes are not funny."

She laughed and he smiled at the sound. He slowly reached across her bed sheets and took her hand, his eyes watching her.

"Wendy?"

Her eyes read his as her heart beat quickly, "Yes?"

"What's my name?"

She looked at him curiously, "Why, it's Peter Pan, of course."

He waited and moment and she thought, trying to remember something again. The way his name sounded made sparks appear in her mind.

"Peter…Peter, Pan…Peter…"

"Remember, Wendy," Peter pleaded sweetly. "Your brothers remember me. And the Lost Boys. Now it's your turn."

Wendy became frustrated, "I can't. I…I can't remember."

Peter stood and his little glowing orb of light appeared next to him. He held out his hand and the little orb stood in his palm.

"This is my fairy, Tinker Bell."

Wendy stared at the tiny orb and saw that it was a tiny lady with wings… she was speaking but only the sound of bells was coming out. Sparkly dust fell from her wings.

"Yes…I remember her…from my stories."

Peter shook his head, "no, not stories. She's real."

Tinker Bell flew out of his hand and the sparkly dust was left in his palm. He sprinkled it over Wendy and then pulled her out of bed by her hand.

"What—where are we going?" Wendy asked as he pulled her towards the window.

Peter turned to her: she could see the frustration and determination in his eyes.

"You must remember flying; you loved it."

Wendy's eyes grew, "flying? I've never-"

And without waiting, Peter took her hand and rose from the ground, carrying her with him. She gasped and stared at her bedroom floor beneath her.

"I'm dreaming," she said.

"No, you're not," he said determinedly.

She looked up at him, meeting his green eyes, and smiled disbelievingly, "If I am, then it is a lovely dream."

He stared at her for a moment and then smiled, "Come with me, Wendy."

She questioned him, "Where are you going?"

He smiled cleverly and she stared at him as he flew out the open window with her trailing behind. She was not flying; Peter was keeping her afloat by holding her hand.

Wendy watched as they traveled through the air, the small courtyard outside her window thirty feet below. And soon they went higher and Wendy saw buildings and coaches in the streets, all covered in snow below them. She looked up and saw the perfect night sky, light and dark purple with the stars twinkling above them. The snow had stopped falling and it was very cold. _But the pixie dust will keep me warm_, thought Wendy. She didn't even stop to question the thought, she just knew it.

They flew over the vast city of London and Wendy felt _alive_, she smiled and laughed as Peter took her soaring above everything.

"Peter, we're flying!" she said. Her heart felt so light and carefree, she was…_happy_.

Peter, grinning slyly, let go of Wendy's hand and watched her amazed face as she realized that she was flying by herself.

She laughed and looked at him, her eyes bright, "Peter, what if I fall?"

He smiled at her gently, "I won't let you fall, Wendy."

They flew together, twisting around chimney tops, over clouds, through the sails of the ships at the docks, under the Tower Bridge.

Peter led her to the clock tower and there they stood on the clock's massive hands. It was almost three o'clock in the morning.

Wendy stared out at the beautiful city, her home. And she looked at Peter who had been staring at her.

"Do you like it, Wendy?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Peter. It's wonderful. It's just how I remembered…" and then she stopped and met his eyes, staring at him blankly.

A rush of memories, full of color and adventure flooded her thoughts, memories she had long forgotten. They had been trying to come back but they had been to blurry, now they were perfect and…she knew they were real. And _he_ was real. And the feelings she once had…she felt them again. And as she stared at him he began to smile.

"Wendy?"

Tears filled her eyes, "Oh…Peter…Peter I remember! I remember Neverland, the flowers, the tree house and the Lost Boys, Hook and his ship that we flew, the Indians, and Tinker Bell…"

Tink chimed next to Wendy's ear and she laughed. She looked back to Peter, remembering his face…

"I remember you," she said happily.

Peter smiled softly.

"You grew up," she said sadly.

"So did you," said Peter.

She shook her head, her voice full of emotion, "I didn't mean to, Peter. You went away and never came back and I had no choice and I forgot…" Tears rolled down her cheeks, "I forgot everything."

Peter stared at her, confused, "Wendy? Why are you crying?"

But Wendy did not answer. She looked at him for a long moment, his face glowing from the light cast from the clock's face. She remembered flying with him, dancing with him that night in the forest to the fairy's song, the same song she had heard the other night at the party when they were dancing. She remembered the way he had looked at her, the way he looked at her now…

She remembered the feelings she had for him. And she remembered…

She reached up and barely touched his cheek. He glanced at her hand and then back to her face, waiting. She leaned closer to him until she could feel his breath on her lips.

"I remember giving this to you…" she said gently.

He watched her intently, waiting. He seemed almost nervous but she smiled at him.

"And it still belongs to you."

She touched her lips to his very lightly and he closed his eyes, bathing in relief.

She broke the kiss and opened her eyes, seeing him staring at her with a gentle warm expression.

She read his eyes for a moment, "Promise you won't go away, again."

"I can't," he said. "I have to return to Neverland."

"Can I come with you? With the boys? They'll be so happy to see you and Neverland again…"

"Of course," Peter said proudly. "Tink says tomorrow night will be the perfect night to fly."

She smiled. "Will you stay this way?" she asked, noting his height.

He smiled, "of course not, this is from the pixie dust; it…made me grow up. But temporarily of course. It does a lot more than we thought…"

"Oh," Wendy said sadly.

He saw the sadness appear in her eyes and thought for a moment. "But…when I come to visit, I can change back, so I can be like you."

She smiled, "promise you won't stay away for so long?"

And there, on the face of the clock tower, Peter took both of Wendy's hands, watching her carefully. He knew he never wanted to see her look at him like a stranger again. She made him more than happy; she was the one he dreamed of.

"I promise," Peter said.

"Don't forget me, Peter pan."

He smiled at Wendy, "Never."

….


	4. Chapter 4

This time, Wendy knew she wasn't dreaming.

Flowers of every shape and size, all different colors and smelled rich and heavenly. The trees were as tall as houses and stretched up, almost touching the bright blue sky above. The forest floor was covered in leaves and flower petals, soft beneath her bare feet. Birds were singing and butterflies were darting about the canopy above.

She marveled at it all. They had just landed; she, her brothers and Peter were all smiling gaily, happy to be back in Neverland. They were dressed in their pajamas and had left London at the stroke of 12 from the clock tower. The flight had been impossible to describe, just as they had remembered it: flying among the stars.

The island smelled as it always had, like sea water and burning fire wood. Everything was so impossibly colorful, even the sea that surrounded the small island.

The tree house was bigger, with more rooms underground as well as above: wooden rooms, like boxes, clung to the thick tree trunk, all connected by ropes or uneven wooden steps. Peter bragged he had built it all himself (with help from the Indians and Tigerlily).

There was stolen treasure scattered along the ground near the tree house. Peter said it was for the pirates; Wendy had forgotten how much he loved to antagonize them.

Michael and John and the boys ran around, making Indian noises and chasing each other through the tree house. Wendy went to Peter's handmade crow's nest at the top of the tree, looking out over the island, sparkling in the sunshine. Hook's ship was away on the east coast and there was smoke rising from the Indian encampment.

But she felt a heaviness fall on her heart. She missed Neverland, missed it more than ever before now that she remembered it. But this is not where she belonged. She knew she couldn't stay.

She heard Peter and the boys laughing.

Tears fell down her face as the wind blew her long hair. She felt glorious here, but it broke her heart nonetheless. So many happy memories…now made her want to cry. There would be not reenactment of their adventures, no new stories. She had to be realistic, no matter how much it hurt. She could not be in two worlds: she could only be in one.

It was a good dream while it had lasted.

"Wendy!" Peter shouted as he burst through the tree top, leaves flying everywhere. He had a beautiful smile on his face, his body was still in "grown up form" but she could see the boy-like twinkle in his eyes.

"Isn't this wonderful? We will have so many adventures together, the pirates, the mermaids! And I've made up so many new games, we will have such fun!"

His smile fell as he looked at her face, "Wendy?"

Tears fell down her cheeks silently as she smiled, feeling very womanly.

"Peter," she said softly, her voice deep. "Thank you for bringing me back. It… it's just as I remember."

Her heart broke as she saw the hurt in his green eyes, pleading her not to say what she was about to say…

Tears formed quickly in her eyes, "Peter-"

"Don't, Wendy," he said strongly, flying away from her.

She was too heartbroken to fly; she climbed down the stair ladder to the forest floor, the boys asking her what was happening.

"Wendy," John asked, "What's wrong?"

She only shook her head, running past him, "I have to find Peter."

She ran through the forest as quickly as she could, not knowing where she was going. But every step was familiar. Her long cream nightgown caught on branches as she ran, tears falling down her cheeks freely.

She loved it here, more than she could ever explain. And it hurt her even more to know she could not stay; she could feel Neverland pulling away her memories of London, forgetting her aunt and father…her mother. The thick smell of the flowers was making her dizzy.

She called his name, feeling a pang of sadness every time. The sun was setting; had they spent the whole day here?

Then she found him, sitting on a boulder. He was in the lagoon, watching the still water. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his head low.

This was why she knew she couldn't be here: sooner or later, she would hurt him. She couldn't stay young, like him.

"Go away," he said, his voice filled with tears.

She stepped onto another boulder next to his, looking over the lagoon, now lit by the light from the rising moon. The waterfall to her left roared softly, rippling the dark water. She had learned long ago to stay away from the mysterious water…hands were eagerly awaiting her to step closer.

She jumped to Peter's boulder, almost falling until peter reached for her, taking her wrist.

She looked at him, steadying herself, and he instantly let go as if her skin had burned him. She sat next to him, pleading for him to meet her eyes.

"Peter," she said softly. "You know better than I that I cannot stay. You _know_, Peter. I cannot stay young like you-"

"I've been so lonely," Peter said, almost angrily. He looked at her, reading her eyes. 'I've been so lonely, Wendy. I've missed you…Tootles, Slightly, Curly…"

His eyes sparked darkly, "Where's _my_ family, Wendy?"

She looked at him for a long moment, comprehending what he was saying.

"Peter…"

She touched his cheek but he pulled away.

"You'll leave again," he said sadly. "And there's nothing I can do. I've changed, Wendy. I grew up, just for you, hoping you would stay."

"But you haven't, Peter," she said with a sad smile.

He met her eyes.

She shook her head, "You are still a boy. You will always be a boy."

He dropped his eyes, glaring into the water, "better a boy than a man."

She looked into the water, seeing the green plants below sway in its gentle current. Maybe she was being too realistic; Neverland was never a place for realistic people… Maybe she shouldn't focus on what she _should_ be… All she had to do was let out her inner child; this was where childhood's dreams came true. She may never get this chance ever again…

Her last time in Neverland.

She smiled, looking up at Peter, "But I'm here now. And we shouldn't spend it angry with each other."

When he didn't respond, she stood up. "Come with me," she said as she held out her hand to him.

He looked at her hand, then up to her face.

She smiled beautifully, a slight glint of wickedness in her eyes.

"I came here to have an adventure."


End file.
